A Future Darkly
by holyflyinfish
Summary: "You see something Phoebe Halliwell, you see how dark the future is. I see your fear, because you know the Charmed Ones are useless against this wave of evil."  read author's notes
1. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes: Alright there's just a few things I need to say before you all go and read this fan fiction. I didn't make up Charmed or Heroes, but I love both shows completely. I wrote this fan fiction during the time period I best enjoyed for each season, which for both shows it was the first to third season. Charmed I started to dislike after they faked their own death so I ceased watching it, but I loved it after Prue died…. I'm a fan of Paige, even though I may do something with Prue from time to tie or mention her. I don't like Billy. As for Heroes I liked it until season three, The mystery and magic of people placed all over the world just was amazing, but when they started to tie it all up, just like the Matrix, it lost its touch. **

**As for the name Robert Neville; I didn't make it but I've been craving to use it forever because I just love the name. **

**The location is in Midland, Oregon. It's very close to California and that's where the giant hub is. Also Heroes canons don't touch base there a lot, exactly the kind of isolation I want. **

**The main inspiration for this was Phoebe's struggle to find love and the only way for her to achieve it was marrying coop….cupid, which gives me the message that she was incapable of love until she went to the direct source. I wanted to make a long dramatic story and one that was worth while, it has that futuristic twist to it, so it is a mystery as well. **

**I typed the first couple of chapters very heroes like, following different people. A mysterious man; Midland Football team, particularly Cyrus Crane and the Halliwells. There are some excerpts that follow heroes canons, but getting on with the chapters it may change to be more fluent with just one person for a whole chapter.  
**


	2. Chapter 1

The long highway 97 was dark barely littered with street lights to illuminate the road. A man's dark blue eyes traced the shadows along the asphalt, carefully attending detail even on the blank road. He was looking for a place to stop, preferably a small neighborhood; a place no one would ever think to look. A vast dark land sped past the window, yet his car was as silent as a bubbling brook. His eyes darted to an open file on his leather passenger seat. Mr. and Mrs. Crane had been wanting a child for years, but Mrs. Marie Crane suffered from ovary cancer, unfortunately she was unable to bare children. It was a planned drop off, a secret transaction that would make the Cranes think they were watched over by guardian angels. They were the perfect family in the best location to drop off an orphan to. His foot lifted from the gas and he slowed to turn onto a side road off the highway, a small sign posted at the corner printed: Welcome to Midland!

The vehicle slowly rolled passed generic houses, a community with white picket fences and flower boxes under the windows. It seemed too little, dainty and perfect, but it needed to be a safe place. His eyes darted to the file once again 507 Stroh Street is where they lived. There was a high school, middle school and elementary school nearby, so education wasn't an issue in this little town. Very independent, luscious with citizens, large enough for options and small enough to hide. He turned left and drove a few houses down to Stroh Street. His eyes scanned the brick walls for gold numbers posted, slowly counting to 507. Pressing his foot on the brake he geared his car to park and took the key out of the ignition. The file still open with the information of Mr. Daniel Crane and Mrs. Marie Crane; his way of locating the couple.

They were a great choice for what he was about to do; looking over his shoulder to see an infant wrapped up in a basket. Inside his file there was a packet full of adoption papers, registration citizenship and anything the baby would ever need to have. The man separated the orange packet from the folder and gently set it down on the seat; he'd keep the file, but the packet was a gift to make the Crane's new child easier to handle. He made it a point to hide his face from the child, not showing his features in light, like the child would know who the man was. "Driver, Front, Back, Open." he said quietly as the doors of his car lifted up towards the ceiling. The car itself looked like it was from another planet, a dark interior with a million blue lights. A sleek exterior with rounded details, it purred like wheat swaying in the wind.

He got out of the car and walked to the back seat, gently grabbing the handle of the basket, still keeping his face out of sight from the child. None of it was supposed to happen like this. "Close." he instructed as the doors obeyed and sealed shut. 507 Stroh Street was a quaint little place, green mailbox, white fence and a cobblestone path to the front door. There was a wreath on the door made of fall leaves that Mrs. Crane probably crafted. It was late fall, school was already in season and all the trees painted crimson as the leaves began to wither. The air was crisp cool against his skin and he knew it eventually would affect the infant nestled in the basket. This was going to be the place where the boy would grow up and live away from everything he'd ever know.

With the light breeze his footsteps shuffled down the cobblestone path and the man stopped before the stoop. It shouldn't be to be this way. He gently placed the basket on the 'welcome' doormat, shoving the orange envelope underneath. His face gazed down at the child, but the shadow concealed his lineaments; just a dark figure loomed over the babe. "Be safe." was all he had to whisper to the child, his fingers stroked the top of the infant's skull. The baby's huge brown hues gazed up at the man, as though his words were understood, but all he did was stared, not even a cry emerged from the baby's throat. "I love you." the man's voice added as his fingertips left the child's scalp.

He stood and pressed the doorbell. As soon as the bell rang the light on the stoop flicked on, illuminating the driveway and front lawn. A few minutes later the door opened and the slender face of Daniel Crane peered out. No one was at his door, but as he looked down he noticed the infant placed on his doormat. He opened the door and walked out, taking another survey of the block, not a single soul was seen. "MARIE!" Daniel called over his shoulder. Soon after his call Marie came running down the stairs, wrapping her robe around her body.

"Daniel, what is it?" she inquired walking out onto the stoop. He leaned down and cradled the child in his arms. "It's a child."

* * *

Jane Foster stood up from the bleachers, wondering why her son had ceased to swing during a pitch. The slowly crawling wave of shadow spreading across the field was her answer. Her brown eyes followed the grass of the field all the way up to the sky. A huge dark circle was shifting over to block the sun, an eclipse.

* * *

Phoebe walked into the Bay Mirror, holding her chin up high. She was a successful and young columnist, currently feeling on top of the world. The office was buzzing with journalists and deadlines. Phoebe desired to speak to Elise about taking a break, she was currently seeing a nice guy and wanted to go to his beach house with him over the weekend, but Elise was currently engaged in a conversation with the new sports reporter, Steven Hemmingway. He was a tall, toned, dark skinned man, who fit the perfect stereotype of a sports junkie.

"Elise, I'm going to need an extension on the sport's deadline." he insisted. His boss didn't seem convinced.

"Well why Steven?" she asked lifting her hands up with a disapproving expression on her face. "It was your idea to have the story run in the first place."

Steven gave a short nod to agree, but he still protested. "The kids live in Oregon. It's going to be a hike to interview them." he explained. Elise gave out a short laugh.

"I thought you were just going to write a story on the success of the Midland team. Seniors who were able to pull off stunts from the NFL." she mentioned. Phoebe wasn't very interesting in the story, she wasn't that much of a sports fanatic and it seemed like everyday Steven found some athlete prodigy, probably just an excuse to travel with business funds. Steven accepted his fate and backed away, planning to save the interview for another segment. Elise turned and almost bumped into Phoebe. "Phoebe I didn't see you there, how is this weeks column?" she asked. Her face was aged and stress added more wrinkles upon her leathery face. Most of the time when people spoke to her, she looked like she was about to hear a boatload of grief.

"Well about that Elise, Darren wanted to go to his beach house and spend the weekend." she said with a wide grin.

"You have a ton of family emergencies that make it difficult for you to work, haven't you been off and out enough Phoebe?" she asked picking up a manuscript and walking around the news floor. Phoebe followed in persistence.

"But Elise, this could help the column, all the romantic advice." she argued as Elise abruptly stopped and turned on her heel.

"If that were the case I'd extend Steven's column to go up and visit those kids for interviews up in Oregon. You see Phoebe I can't always go around and grant favors." she stated placing the manuscript in the finished box. Her mouth gaped open at Elise's decision.

"If that's the issue then let him go up to Oregon." she really didn't care for Steven's story, it was just a bunch of kids, nothing new in sports. She really needed this vacation, the premonition of her daughter would never come true if she missed out on every opportunity that arouse. Her thoughts passed through her head as she gently bit her lower lip. There was no argument she could give Elise without showing her intentions of just attending a extended date. She was about to put on a fight when her cell phone rang.

_Ah Darn…_

She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, placing it to her ear. "Hello?" she asked sweetly waiting for the person to respond.

"Where are you?" Piper's voice came sternly through the receptor. "You were supposed to be here a half hour ago, I'm getting my ultrasound, remember you wanted to be here when we found out the gender? I'm about to go in." Phoebe's mouth opened even more.

"Ah sorry Piper, I'll be right over, I was just a little pre-occupied at work." she said. "Be right there, bye bye love ya." She sputtered clapping the phone shut. Later, She'd have to call Darren and inform him of the bad news.

* * *

"Ms. Halliwell, please just sit back and relax." the doctor instructed as he brought her into the ultra-sound room. Piper, Paige and Leo shuffled into the room, Leo aiding Piper to sit on the bench. The doctor flicked a few switches and waited for the computer to resume. "This is your first visit Ms. Halliwell?" the doctor asked. Piper nodded in agreement to his question. He shook hands with Leo. "I'm Dr. Neville." he said, smiling widely. A tall man with a square face, blue eyes shaded with curly sandy hair and his smile was a wide crescent across his face; Paige noted the smile.

Phoebe busted through the door into the room. "Sorry I'm late!" she announced taking balance after clearly running through the hospital halls. Dr. Neville picked up the gel and shook the bottle.

"Alright Ms. Halliwell this is going to feel a little cold." he instructed as he traced the gel on her bare stomach. After he lathered the gel he placed the gray wand on her abdomen and rolled it around. "Well, it's too early to tell the gender, but you have one heartbeat." he said looking at the screen, pointing at a flashing white light that was the organ. Paige noted his wide smile as he pointed it out.

"So..Dr. Neville, do you have any kids?" she asked coyly, her and Phoebe exchanged looks, even though Phoebe's mind was heavy with the whole 'Darren Situation'. He looked back at the Halliwells and his lips pressed into a flat frown.

"No, Unfortunately." he said. Paige lifted a brow. "Closest I get is pediatrics." he chuckled taking a cloth and wiping off the gel from Piper's stomach. "Alright Piper, you should be coming back in a couple weeks." he said with a wide smile, holding his hand out to shake hands with Leo again.

"Thanks Dr. Neville." Leo said, helping Piper off the seat and out of the room. Phoebe squinted and lifted her index. She recognized the name.

"Wait are you _the _Dr. Neville?" she asked. There was a Dr. Neville in San Francisco who was famous for his record in surgery, he had the most successful surgeries than any surgeon in the country. He lifted both of his hands up to imply she had caught him red-handed. "You are?" she exclaimed with a wide smile. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Doing this?"

He crossed his arms across his chest and frown slightly in thought. "I told you before, the closest I get to kids is pediatrics." he said. Phoebe nodded as she analyzed the situation. Dr. Neville was a successful, smart, handsome man who loved children and had no wedding ring. It was a curious circumstance to Phoebe, he was the kind of man who'd have women drooling over him and throwing themselves at his doorstep.

"Do you mind if I ask you something? I write-" Dr. Neville nodded

"Finding Love in The Bay Mirror." he added. "I've read it many times." that gave her the permission to ask away.

"You have everything any woman would want and yet..you aren't married, or have a girlfriend? What has caused that?" she questioned, her expression extremely spectacle. Everyone had left at the point and Phoebe was interrogating alone. Dr. Neville took his time to think, it was clear on his face he was choosing the right words.

"I'm where I am today because I've worked hard." he started shrugging. "I guess I just want to find that one person who isn't in love with my hard work, but can look at me and love _me." he explained bringing his palms to his chest. Her expression softened as she listened to his reasoning; it was one of the sweetest things she had ever heard and she never gave advice anything like it. He was the man no one thought existed. _

"_Do you mind if I ask you to dinner Dr. Neville?" _


	3. Chapter 2

Paige quirked a brow when Phoebe walked into the kitchen. 'So?" she asked stirring a pot of pasta with a wooden spoon. She stopped in her tracks and threw her arms open.

"What? All I did was ask the man to dinner so I could interview him. It'd make a really good article." she defended herself quite efficiently. Paige nodded slowly and made a small hum noise.

"You sure Darren is Mr. Big Dad?" she asked her expression even more coy than before. "Seems to me like Piper's Doc is a good bet." she hinted giving a wide smile.

"What about my doctor?" Piper said walking in, placing tomato sauce on the counter. Paige tilted her chin towards Phoebe in a quick motion. Piper's expression gasped with shock.

"You asked my doctor out on a date? No Phoebe No, what happened to not dating professional men who take care of us?" Piper nagged. "We've never seen our health inspectors, doctors, cops." she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I don't get why it's such a big deal. It's strictly for my column. I'm still seeing Darren you know, even though I can't go with him this weekend." she hung her head and looked at the countertop with a pout on her face.

"Elise didn't give you off?" Piper asked looking back up, she managed to show concern. Phoebe shook her head slowly with disappointment. Paige took the pot to the sink and strained out the hot water from the pasta, she was making dinner for all of them, they were rarely home together. As Paige turned gingerly with the strained pasta she saw Phoebe wincing apologetically.

"You're going to dinner, tonight, well now aren't you?" Paige asked, showing signs of small grief, setting the pasta down on the counter. Phoebe nodded casually, biting her bottom lip. Piper placed her hands on her hips. "Are you sure this is just for the newspaper?" Paige hinted giving a small wink. Phoebe nodded again.

"Yes!" She turned on her heel and she went to her room to change for her date.

* * *

"Hey, check this out." Peter said taking the mouse into his hand and clicking the url for the Bay Mirror. "We're in California's news paper, for that game we had a couple days ago." he announced to the four other boys lingering over the computer screen.

"Cross, Fury, Kane, Grey, Crane, Vawn, what are you doing?" the coach yelled. All the player turned to face their coach and they scurried, leaving Peter to sit in front of the computer. He adjusted his seating so the coach could look at the Bay Mirror.

"It's just, we're in the paper Coach." Peter said pointing at the screen. His expression released into an innocent look. He approached the screen and leaned in towards it.

"Midland Senior team pulls off stunts like NFL." he mouthed reading the headline of the sports section.

"I was thinking we could go down there and have an interview. I mean we all drive and they probably won't drive all the way up here." Peter suggested, rubbing the back of his head briefly, glancing at the other members, they all nodded and agreed with him.

* * *

Phoebe walked into the small café, she agreed to meet Dr. Neville instead of having him pick her up at her frantic house with her crazy sisters. She looked around for the man she was used to seeing in a white lab coat, but she found him in a different light. He wore a pleasant dark red, v-neck sweater, jeans and tan loafers, she wasn't a fan of the loafers, but it was a professional way to dress outside of work. She couldn't help but to show a wide smile across her face as she sat down with him at the table. He was itching to help her with her chair, but it wasn't a date, just an interview. They both sat down and smiled, surprisingly it wasn't an awkward start.

"Excited to be an aunt?" he started. Phoebe's mouth smiled widely, she was also a child person.

"Yea! I love kids." she explained, looking at the table cloth, she was searching for a husband to have kids; she was the only one who felt tied. "Piper is excited as well. Family growing as well." she pulled out a notebook and pen. "So Dr. Neville." she started. He held up one hand gingerly.

"Robert."

"Robert. You're just so romantic, thinking about women. How on Earth, or what influenced your opinions?" she asked, tapping the pen against her chin. Robert leaned on his elbow and rested his chin in his palm. His eyes thinned as he thought.

"Well. Second Grade girls have cooties, Eighth, we start to notice how pretty girls really are. Twelfth you should be asking them to prom instead of breaking their hearts. Women are more than just a toy. Finding that one person to love can make waiting an eternity worth it." he explained. "I just woke up one day and realized that how most people live, is very empty. It is worth loving how a woman taps a pen on her chin when intrigued." Phoebe stopped immediately and lowered her pen. "It isn't influence Ms. Halliwell, some people just cease to wake up and learn the truth."

"And what is the truth Dr. Neville?"

* * *

The screen portrayed a mug shot of a scowling man, his eyes showed signs of evil. Two dark blue eyes watched the screen as the page scrolled on the news excerpt about a serial killer, Sylar. No one could stopped what happened. The man moved down the table, eying different tools on a counter. A mask shielded his face, once again his identity concealed.

_Lately I sorta remember everything I read. It's kinda a skill I guess_

The man flipped through files of countless murders, morbid pictures of people's skulls cut open and their brains pried through. This was no work of any demon, it was the work of a mad man who had the ability to go beyond the normal. His fingers quivered as he turned the pages, stopping on one. His eyes examined the I.D. of the boy who was murdered and a picture of the actual crime scene. The teen's eyes stared blankly at the brightly lit sky. Grass surrounded his body, turf they put down for football fields. He gazed at the name. Cyrus Crane; he died at eighteen years old and right after homecoming game. The man shook his head as he closed the file, it was a sick investigation, but one that had to be analyzed.

_

* * *

_

It was late night at the Burnt Toast Diner and Charlie Andrews went into the back room to open a can of tomato sauce. She hooked the opener to the giant can and briefly looked around as though she heard a noise, it was always a little creepy at night. Her dark brown eyes surveyed the area and no one was present, so she turned back to her work, starting to turn the lever and open the can, but she looked up and stopped. Warm blood started to drip down her temple, her brown eyes staring coldly as blood trickled down her nose and opposite temple.


	4. Chapter 3

_**In Finding Love I always give advice to people trying to find their way in love. We feel that our life does not continue on if we never find it. Rejection and selection are the main things we suffer from in the race of love. What if it wasn't us that created obstacles, what if it we because we didn't know the truth? **_

**Phoebe stared at the blinking marker on her computer screen. That's all she could think of, but nothing else. She leaned back in her chair and stroked her chin, tapping the end of her pen on the notebook that was scribbled with notes from dinner with Dr. Neville. She could remember the look in his eye when he tilted his chin and gave her a certain look. Phoebe couldn't analyze that look, she didn't have any premonitions so she got nothing off it. It didn't evoke suspicion, but she felt like it implied she was supposed to know something. Paige walked in and sat down at the table with her, taking a quick look at the notebook. Phoebe pulled it away**

"**Hey, Hey." Phoebe said, hiding the book from her sister. Paige looked at her and crossed her arms, she wanted details, **_**clearly**_**. **

"**Well considering, you're all tied up with Darren I was thinking I could have a chance with-." her brown eyes glanced back at the notebook. "Robert." she giggled. Phoebe opened her mouth and frowned. They had this discussion earlier with Piper, there was to be no affiliation with doctors, especially personal doctors. "I wonder if he does house calls." Paige spoke on in her own fantasy. Phoebe tuned her out as her eyes went back to the screen. **

**She remember his lips parting to speak and his words seemed poetic to her. "Accepting even the secrets." her fingers hovered over the key board and Paige noticed the hesitation. **

"**Was it something I said?" she asked. "Jeez I was just joking." she rolled her eyes.**

"**No it's not that." Phoebe responded, she closed her laptop and rubbed her neck softly. "It's just, how Robert spoke about love, it's like he knew that people likes us have problems due to our secret." she said briefly lifting her hand off her neck. "He said the truth to true love is accepting the secrets."**

"**You have that look on your face; the one that means you're thinking." Paige observed.**

"**It's just. Things were going so well with Darren and then when I can't go with him another amazing guy drops from the sky. It's like there's signs everywhere suddenly making me feel like there's another direction to my premonition." she explained. "It's all just very confusing." Paige nodded and placed a hand on her sister's shoulder.**

"**Look, just let things happen as they're supposed to. If you need to see him more let it be out of fate, not your doing." Paige said. "If Robert is supposed to be a giant part of your life, let him come to you." she was right and Phoebe nodded. **

"**That's a good point Paige."**

**

* * *

**

**The alleyway looked so small from the top of the apartment building. Peter's dark eyes lifted to the horizon, taking a brief look of the city tops and then he looked up to the sky. The wind blew his long tan jacket briskly, making it sway in the breeze. He felt a pit for in his stomach and he took a deep breath, spreading his hands out beside him. Peter had a gut feeling that he could **_**fly**_**. He was so sure of it he was willing to trust himself. His foot stepped away from the ledge and he let his weight pulley him off the edge of the building. The air cradled him as he fell down towards the ground, his coat swirling around him. His limbs loosely swatted the intangible environment, all he could see was the sky slowly falling away from him. **

**

* * *

**

**Jeremiah scrolled his mouse on the screen. "Steven, Cm'here." he mumbled waving a hand quickly to his computer. Steven walked over and took a seat next to Jeremiah. **

"**What?" Steven asked looking at the screen. Jeremiah pointed to the headlines of small town cnn stories. Girl Rescues Citizens from Fire Without Burns. Man Jumps Off Building and Lives. Another Mysterious Murder. Senior Football Team Pulls NFL Stunts. Bank Robbed, No Suspect Caught.** All these headlines were crazy stories, most seemed supernatural. "What the hell is happening, all of these are all around the country." Even Steven's segment contributed. Elise walked by and picked up this week's paper. Her dark eyes moved to the computer her employees hovered over.

"What's going on here?" she asked. Steven and Jeremiah both looked up and shied away, thinking they were in some sort of trouble.

"It's just these stories, all of them, it's like some freak accident spread all of the United States."

* * *

"There hasn't been any demon activity." Piper announced walking into the sun room. Phoebe and Paige sat in chairs with coffee mugs. They both nodded in agreement.

"Well that's a good thing, we can finally relax." Paige praised as she lifted her hands into the air. Phoebe sipped her coffee pleasantly, but her thoughts were still caught up about Robert Neville.

"Don't you think it's a little strange though?" Piper asked, lifting her eyebrows, surprised. Paige nodded and submitted to the truth. Phoebe tilted her head in a curious manner. Something was happening and it was all piecing itself together, something the charmed ones weren't familiar with.

"What is it that's coming?" Phoebe asked, she seemed frightened.

* * *

Two rough fingers rubbed the left ring finger gently, trying to massage the pain away. He slipped on two latex gloves as he walked over to the surgical table. A corpse was set in the morgue for the man to examine. His blue hues looked at the skulless cadaver before him. Things weren't supposed to be the way they were. The man walked around the table to peer into the exposed brain of the deceased. It has been poked through and pried around like mashed potatoes. His eyes lifted to look out the barred window; darkness swirled outside, a few flashes of light followed by violent thunder. Rain didn't fall from the sky, it was ash, all of mortal's misery and pain, their burned souls, littering the ground with hell. The lights slowly flickered and then shut off due to lack of power, the man was left in the dark.

"_Bachigai, that means I don't belong here, right?" _

All he ever wanted to do was save her.

* * *

The boy grew on 507 Stroh Street. He knew what it was like to cry and be a child, but now he was becoming a man. Cyrus Crane stood on the field, the sun blazing down upon him, but it didn't generate heat. The rest of the team ran laps and jumped through tires. He stopped due to a sharp pain in his temple, his face scrunched in pain as the stitch spread through his skull. His nerves tingled as warm liquid dripped down his nasal across his lips. He swiped it and pulled his out to examine the crimson liquid that saturated his flesh. Cyrus was a shorter boy with dark toned skin, round square jaw, dark hair shaved close to the scalp and two big brown eyes. He was probably the smallest man on the team, but it didn't affect his skills.

Peter trotted up to him and looked at the blood. "Jesus, You alright Cyrus?" he asked wincing at the sight of blood. Peter was a 6'4 ginger, with a slender oval face and two of the most vibrant blue eyes on the planet. He was what most people called a hazardous two legs, because he was charismatic and influential without limitations. Dangerous and stupid didn't fall in his book, but reckless and foolish did.

"It's just a headache." Cyrus said lathering the blood between his fingers, it was odd to have such a bad nosebleed because he could feel it drip off of his chin. His expression frowned at the darker color and thicker texture, maybe he really was sick. He closed to eyelids and the shadow-filled face of the stranger leaving him at the doorstep flashed through his mind.


	5. Chapter 4

"Look at the light." a doctor ordered as the young teen looked directly at the light, his pupil crunched up to block the light coming through. His eyes followed the light as the doctor shifted it in wide circles, his eyes straining from the rings of vibrancy. "Does it hurt now?" the doctor asked. Cyrus shook his head, he could feel the dried blood flake off his skin as he stretched his lips. "The head ache was probably getting direct sun and the nosebleed caused from instant cold to hot temperature changes, nothing you need to go to the E.R. for." he assured turning the flashlight off. His pupils dilated as the light decreased.

He stood up from the cushioned tan chair. "Thanks Doc." he said giving a wide toothy grin as he left the health office. Midland High halls met him as he walked through towards the football field. Lockers lined the hall, along with art made from the students with Fine Arts elective. Cyrus wasn't one to create, but he played sports, along with the other forty-nine players on the team. He made his way into the locker room, finding his locker amongst the many. Taking off his gear he felt ten pounds lighter, setting it into the locker accordingly. His eyes traced the news paper clippings and games hanging inside the door. A smile spread across his square jaw and he felt the dried blood chip on his upper lip. He was still covered with his own blood.

"What's happening to me?" he asked himself hanging up his jersey. He walked into the showers and found a mirror to stare at himself. Cyrus was not just short, he was a small petite man, with plump muscles from running all those yards as a wide receiver. His dark eyes stared at himself in the mirror; he was not a Crane, he came from somewhere else and he _remembered. _The man's dark face looking down, directly at him, but Cyrus couldn't depict the man's facial features, as crisp clear as he remembered it, the memory printed the man with a hidden face. His fingers grasped the silver knob and turned the sink faucet on. Water sprayed out and swirled around the bowl, cycling the drain.

The man was wearing a hood, to a wool jacket, but nothing he had ever seen before. A sharp pain stung his head and he let out a small yelp. He wore clothes like he was homeless, made of things he could scavenge. Another pain germinated in his temple and his palm went to aid his forehead. "Ah!" he yelled. He could feel blood seeping from his nose again as he mind burned in agony. Cupping his hands under the stream of water he watched all the red liquid cloud away in the cold water. He parted his lips and surveyed blood staining his teeth. Closing his eyes he cleared all of his thoughts, refraining from thinking about anything and his pain ceased. Cyrus gathered a cup of water in his palms and rinsed his face of the blood.

Voices filled the locker room as the rest of the team filed in. Loud clangs from lockers banged through the room and laughter as the boy teased about bad plays on the field. Cyrus grabbed a towel and dabbed his face dry slowly. A frown distorted his face as he thought to himself, he was just a baby and he remembered distinctly. Peter waltzed in with a towel wrapped around his waist, he was a beanpole. "Hey buddy? How is the nosebleed?" Peter asked looking over at the sink, he saw the last bit of blood seep through the metal drain. He bit his lower lip. "What did Doc say?" he asked.

Cyrus swiped the towel across his upper lip, making sure there wasn't any more blood. "He said it was just temperature changes." he said with a small smile, but he felt like it was more than that. Peter slapped a palm on his back.

"Good, don't go dying. Remember we're going down to Cali to have an interview with Steven for The Bay Mirror." his hand spread out like he was some sort of movie star producer outlining the stars. Cyrus had to laugh at Peter's antics, he was a good friend. He patted Cyrus' back again and walked out of the showers back into the locker room. Cyrus could hear him loudly speak about how famous they were and how great their games were going. His dark eyes returned to the reflection, what was happening? Lifting his fingers he gently touched his upper lip tracing where the blood used to be.

* * *

Daniel and Marie ate their supper gingerly as Cyrus slowly avoided his. Mr. Crane looked beyond his spectacles at his son and chewed a piece of beef. After swallowing he lifted his fork and pointed it at his son. "You haven't touched a bite Cyrus, how was your practice?" he asked lifting a brow. His son casually glanced up from his scrambled plate. There was a question that formed inside himself, but he was too afraid to ask it. Who was his parents? Every kid asked that, especially if they had been adopted. It was too early to ask.

"I had a nose bleed today during practice." he announced. "Nothing serious, just scared me a little." Daniel frowned at Cyrus' reaction, nosebleeds shouldn't be scary, they were just nosebleeds. His son noticed he was staring at him with a quirked brow. "I was afraid coat might not let me go for the interview tomorrow, if it kept up to be something bad." he added eating some mashed potatoes. The sudden interest in food got them hot off his trail and his parents ceased interrogation; they knew how much football meant to him. No one was speaking now and Cyrus chewed his food quietly; the silence started to sit on a nerve wrong, so he started conversation.

"It's interesting that we're suddenly getting attention." Cyrus opened. "We've been playing and winning all season Why now?" he asked. Marie and Daniel both lowered their silverware and looked at him curiously. Parents had a knack for reading minds, they raised a child for so long that they eventually know how their child functions. Cyrus knew they were onto him the moment they lowered their silverware.

"Cyrus..what is _really_ bothering you?" Marie asked this time, both of his parents were giving him full attention and he could feel it crush him slowly. His teeth sunk into his lower lip tenderly; there really was something else bothering him. Fear started to form inside his chest, tying knots in his intestines, telling his parents that he wanted to know who his birth parents are was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do. Asking them this would spoil the mood and probably make Marie depressed for a couple days.

"I….I want to know who my birth parents are." he said quickly, lowering his chin immediately, avoiding all eye contact with his foster parents. He picked up his fork and he stabbed his mashed potatoes repeatedly. Surprisingly, the Cranes reacted very well, but remained silence. The expected grave expressions composed on their faces. Daniel opened his lips to speak, but closed them back up to rethink what he was about to say.

"Cyrus, it's perfectly normal to desire knowledge of your birth parents. You're eighteen now and you have every right to know." Daniel informed him, still avoiding his meal. "Is there something that made you have a strong desire to pursue them?" he asked, lifting a brow. There was the pitch; trying to find out if it was something they did.

"There's just a lot about myself I would like to understand. I'd want to know if I had disease, or inherited talents." he explained. "It's not because I'm unappreciative of you guys or you guys did something wrong along the road, but if you were in my shoes, wouldn't you want to know where you came from?" it was a good argument and Daniel was content, picking at his food again to eat. Marie placed her palms on the table calmly, just as Cyrus predicted, she felt saddened by his requested. Sometimes questions are more powerful than answers. His dark eyes observed her face; lips pursed attempting to hide a frown and her brows arched making her look upset.

* * *

"I'm very disappointed with these tests. Didn't I tell all of you to study?" Miss. Crosebee said, her voice showed strokes of frustration. She walked around the room handing the papers to each student, most had a huge red 'F' on them. Vawn leaned over and whispered "We were at that after party." he winked. The night they were supposed to study the team did what every sports team did; had a party, got drunk and met girls. Cyrus didn't like to get wasted, but he went just in support for his team, as for girls; he was waiting to have a chance with the right one. Either way he didn't have the time to study.

Miss. Crosebee stopped in front of Cyrus' desk and he coward slightly in her presence. He was about a C student, just passing to play football. She told him many times he had potential and never applied it properly. There were always side discussions about how he could improve, most of the time she nagged like a second mother. She slipped out his paper and gently set it down on his desk without a word. As she walked away Cyrus lifted it up away from the desk, his eyes scanned the giant A in the top corner. "Hundred Percent?" he quietly asked himself.

* * *

Phoebe jotted down notes in her personal office, thinking about how relaxing it was to not rush around or attack the supernatural. She overheard Steven's excitement about a few players from the Midland team coming today for interviews. Darren was very understanding when she told him that Elise wouldn't give her off, but she couldn't help thinking she missed out on a big opportunity. Her thoughts strayed to Robert Neville, how he smiled and even how he thought; she stopped when she realized she was tapping her pen against her chin again. She just had dinner with Robert and he seemed to observe the tiny details about her. It was hard for her to find someone she felt comfortable with, someone she knew she could trust with her secret; being a Charmed one.

The truth about love is accepting the secrets; she wasn't so sure about Darren anymore. Phoebe picked up the remote from her desk and turned on the news; she couldn't believe she really had nothing else to do. She frowned slightly as the man on the news rolled through stories, she'd never seen such odd reports before:

"_Thursday Afternoon, a young cheerleader from Odessa Texas saved a man from a burning building. She claimed she was walking by the incident when she heard the man pleading for help. Officials were stunned that the girl was able to make it without getting hurt herself. The man is in critical condition, but will he healing healthily. In criminal news; A bank robbery took place, stealing a total of three thousand dollars. Officials do not know where to begin because there isn't a suspect. They will not release any internal data, but all persons present in the bank, including staff claimed they didn't even witness a robbery, loses were found that night. There was another murder from our nationwide serial killer; F.B.I is in on this investigation, but will not disclose any detail about the homicides or the man himself. They still have not caught him."_

All these things were happening all around the country and yet there couldn't be one demon attack. The mortal world was getting jumbled up in knots and the underworld stood by to watch. She stared at the screen, slowly zoning out when a knock on her door made her jump. "Come in!" she said. Jeremiah stepped in with a paper in his hand.

"Hey Phoebe, I found this online and I just thought it looked a lot like you, some comic artist in New York drew it." he said. "Don't ask how I found it." he laughed, trying to hide the fact he was a comic nerd. She held out her hand and he gave it to her, leaving quickly. Phoebe held it straight so she could look at the drawing printed on the paper's face. Her brown hues opened wider and her mouth dropped as she examined a character that looked just like her. It was a giant painting shrunk down to a tiny eight by eleven sheet. The dopple-ganger was panicked, reaching down towards the ground, a man, who looked like Leo was pulling her away, a speech bubble read: 'It's too late!'

She followed the reach of the woman's arm, her fingers extended towards the ground where a giant face was painted for an up-close effect, only it was cut off by the edge of the canvas, only showing half of his lineaments, but there was blood lathered all over the stranger's face, his eyes staring widely at Phoebe. Her face composed of a disgusted face, yet her heart fluttered frantically; the painting it _was her, down the bone structure, body shape and wardrobe. _

_

* * *

_

"_In this picture, it's me, Leo and this person." Phoebe said pointing to the face. "I think he's dead." Piper nodded as she looked at the drawing. _

"_Obviously, he's covered in blood Phoebe. Where did you get this?" she asked giving the picture to Paige._

"_Jeremiah gave it to e at work, it was drawn by his favorite artist."_

"_Do you know who this person is?" Paige asked pointing to the face in the picture. "Have you ever even seen him before?"_

"_It might be a sign Phoebe, that was have to try and save an innocent." Piper concluded._

"_From what? I don't know who this person is, Where he is, who's attacking him. If I'm supposed to save him then why is Leo stopping me?" she took the paper from Paige and stared at the face of the mutilated man._

"_Well whoever it is, we need to find out fast, he may be in danger." Piper ordered. "Use that picture and scrye for him, try anyway." she told Phoebe. "Leo and I will look around, Paige, go to magic school, see what you can find." Piper relaxed a bit; it was about time they had a little bit of activity. Phoebe headed up to the attic, leaving her sister behind downstairs. The entire time her eyes were glued to the drawing, who would ever just come up with such a thing? It had to be a sign. She entered the attic and sat down at the worn table, littered with maps, books and potions. Setting the picture down, she then spread the map out across the surface. _

_She folded the paper and held it in her palm with the string of the scyre stone, she waving it in circles above the map, waiting for it to pinpoint a location. It ripped from her fingers and spun widely an inch above the map, it spun so fast it started to burn and generate light. Phoebe watched the purple stone glow orange, then wither into thin air. The stone had never done that before, now she had to get a new one. She opened the picture back up and stared at the face, it was so frightened and pain, but whoever it was isn't an easy person to find. _


	6. Chapter 5

**Phoebe found herself walking to the receptionist's desk at the hospital, she was free on Saturday afternoon, already spending the morning at work. There was something that compelled her to visit Robert Neville. Darren was the last person on her mind. A wide smile appeared across her face as she approached the desk, the woman shielded by the large counter looked up. "Can I help you?" she asked in a friendly tone. She was a small, boyish young woman, who looked like she enjoyed being there; like she had the heart. **

"**Is Dr. Robert Neville in?" she asked, peering over the desk at the piles of papers. They looked like client files, there was a large stack labeled with his name, they must have been his patient files. There were a ton by the looks of it, how did he have time to cure all of those people? The receptionist took the mouse in her hand and started clicking around as she looked at her desktop.**

"**Dr. Neville is in Africa for the week, he's helping out those in need." she informed with a large smile. Phoebe felt a rush of disappointment, but she found out he had a huge heart, to go away like that and help out. Piper's check up wasn't for another ten days, he didn't have to be around until then. "Do you need to see him? We have a cover doctor." the woman asked. Phoebe waved a hand and shook her head, she didn't need medical attention. **

"**Do you have any way to contact him?" she asked. "I have a question about medication he prescribed." she lied. The woman bit her lower lip as she thought to herself, she was debating whether releasing his contact number was a wise idea. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down digits.**

"**He left this number in case there was an emergency, or reference. It would take a while for us to get to him and ask about the medication, his cover wouldn't know, without consulting your medical history first." she handed Phoebe the piece of paper and smiled. "I hope you're feeling alright." she added before she went back to work. **

**Phoebe looked down at the set of numbers. "Thank you." she said walking out of the hospital. Now she just had to come up with a pretty stupid reason to call him, without feeling bad about disturbing him at work. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number, pressing call. Holding it to her ear she listened to it ring, it cut off and a computerized voice interrupted the connection.**

"**You are making a call out of the country, an extra fifty cents per minute, would you like to proceed?" it asked. **

"**Yes." she said into the receptor and the ringing started back up. A few more rings and Phoebe suspected that he wasn't going to pick up. The ringing abruptly stopped and the sound of crickets entered her ear from the phone. There was rustling and then she heard him out the phone to his ear.**

"**Hello. Dr. Neville speaking?" he said, his voice sounded tired, of course, it was probably night in Africa, Phoebe forgot about the time zones. She opened her mouth to speak, but found herself speechless, she didn't know what to say. Sudden nervousness fluttered over her and she took a deep breath, to tell him she was still on the phone.**

"**Hi…..Dr. Neville." she said slowly, trying to keep a calm disposition. "I'm sorry for waking you. I just got out of the hospital, I needed to speak with you and I was given this number." she apologized quickly. **

"**It's alright, what's the problem?" he asked, he was so cool about being up, probably because he spent many hours being awake from E.R. operations.**

"**It's not really a problem.." Phoebe stated biting her teeth together, the situation could be progressively getting worse the more she told the truth. He made a typical noise doctors did; **_**hmmm,**_** like they did when reading a diagnosis, it made them look more professional and built up suspense. This time it was just an indication that he was listening. "I was originally going to ask you if you wanted to maybe get a cup of coffee, but the receptionist told me you're in Africa. I guess I'm just saying I wanted to talk to you." she placed her hand on her forehead. "And this is the worst time to." she heard him chuckle. **

"**I'd love coffee." he said, she heard him get up. "You near any cafes?" he asked. Phoebe looked around the street, her eyes searching for any shops that would serve coffee. She spotted a small place on the side of the road, she and her sisters went there all the time, she never realized how close to the hospital it was. **

"**Yes?"**

**She heard clanging of a pot in the background. "Go get a cup of coffee, you'll be there and ready by the time I'm done making mine." he commented, she heard running water. Phoebe smiled at this new method of having coffee. "Don't worry. I'll pay for the charges." he added as he put his coffee pot on the burner. Phoebe walked to the coffee shop and ordered. She sat down at a nearby table and held the phone to her ear. Robert sat down at his small make-shift table in his small trailer set outside the nearby village. "How is your sister Piper?" he asked, being the doctor and all. **

"**She's doing fine, a little moody, but that's what happens huh?" she giggled. "Let's not talk about Piper, Why are you in Africa?" she asked.**

"**Well.." Robert leaned back in his chair and pulled his kettle off of the fire, his coffee was now ready. The cashier brought Phoebe her coffee as well. "They nominated surgeons for this program, to come and help out those in need. It's very voluntary, not much pay. That's not the point though. I enjoy helping people." he explained. "There's a lot of people suffering in this world and I want to help. Enough about me. First an interview, now it seems like another. What about you, Miss. Ask Phoebe?"**

**There wasn't much about Phoebe she could share. "I'm the writer of Finding Love in The Bay Mirror. I've live in San Francisco all of my life with my sisters, Paige, Prue and Piper."**

"**Three P's." he observed, he was the only one to catch onto that right away. **

"**Yea. My Grandmother raised up, the Halliwells have a thing for names that start with the letter P." she let out a breath. "I think that's it." she said.**

"**You lived for what? About three decades and that's all you have to say about yourself?" he asked with a laugh. He took a sip of his coffee. "It's alright, we don't all have to be walking around writing a book." there was a lot more in her life, but she couldn't tell him, not by a long shot. **

**

* * *

**

"**You must have photographic memory." Peter stated lowering Cyrus' test. "Seeing things in pictures and remembering the details." he explained. **

**Cyrus took his test and stared at the A; he wasn't complaining, he just wanted to know **_**how. "If I had photographic memory I would have had it my entire life." he commented folding the paper into his back pocket. "I remember lots and lots, it's just something my brain started doing lately, whether I want it to or not." Cyrus looked at Peter. "I remember my real father putting me on the door step." he said.**_

_**Peter looked shocked. "Didn't you say your parents got you when you were just a couple months old? You have a very good memory." he spoke in astonishment. They both got onto the coach bus, headed for California, it was the day they'd go and have their interviews. The coach agreed to rent a bus and go with the boys down to San Francisco. Peter took a seat and pulled Cyrus into the next. The rest of the team clamored in, making loud commotion and sitting in various places. **_

"_**Don't you feel like something is happening Peter? Like we're all meant to do something. Or we're all a part of it." **_

_**

* * *

**_

_**The lights slowly turned back on as the generator restored power. His lab was finally lit up from the darkness. He lifted his wrist to look at his watch; now that he could finally see. It was just about time, so he took off his lab coat and mask, placing them on the aluminum table. The lab was in an underground basement from the looks of it, but instead of a staircase leading to the upper floors there was a metal ladder. He climbed up the ladder and turned the metal hatch, cold air rushed through and chilled the lab as he climbed through the bottom of a trolley. Its red and gold paint chipped from years of decay. The interior was shredded apart, with little benches, only one in the back, and the windows were covered with iron shields, connected to a mechanism on the wall. There was only one door, which was locked up with electronic and mechanical mechanisms. **_

_**Once he climbed out of the manhole he closed the hatch back up, turning to the switch on the wall. His index flipped the objects and the shields over the windows slid under each other, opening the view of the world to him. Each window was covered with bars outside, extra precautions for whatever he was holding up away from in this fortress. Outside the world was a dark place, no city lights, not even a single soul occupied the Earth. The stars were hidden behind a blanket of dark clouds and smoke, flurries of snow and ash swirled in the bone chilling wind. It was dangerous to be up here, where he was visible, but there was one thing he came up to see occasionally.**_

_**There was a mile stretch from the horizon and the legion of shadows in the sky, one mile to experience sunlight. He saw the pink light rise from the Earth and it illuminated the large sphere, most people called the moon years ago. The moon was so close now, that it was constantly in Earth's shadow, its silver light died out and it could only be seen when the sun rises. He could see the underbellies of the clouds surroundings the sky and framing the moon perfectly. His heart raced as he saw the bright flare of the sun, beaming all the light it could before it lifted past the clouds, the world faded into darkness again. **_


	7. Chapter 6

Once again Phoebe found herself staring at the blinking bar on her computer screen. Her mind was torn apart by many thoughts. The haunting face of the man who's life was in danger, lack of demon activity and how Robert Neville fit into the picture. She was supposed to be writing her column, but how could she? There was a premonition of a daughter, she knew she was going to get that far, but who was it with? Who was the man she is supposed to fall in love with? Her finger tapped the backspace button and she watched the few words typed slowly disappear. The picture lay next to her laptop, she couldn't stop staring at the poor boy's face; the pain and misery projected. It was a morbid thing to illustrate, a sick joke to give. His eyes were tender, deep brown like cool Earth despite the dead gaze.

"Who are you?" she inquired as she pulled up the browser on her computer. She was going to read last week's column, help get her on the ball again. The main forum had Steven's story, which was odd because Elise usually shoves it in the sports section. There was a video with a short description of the segment. Phoebe rolled her eyes as she scrolled a little past it and read the next segment about how Baked goods help a relationship, Donna was always into relationships as well, she wrote small stories like that all the time.

"AND TOUCHDOWN!" her speaker blasted loudly and she jumped, the video on the page had an auto-play on it. She quickly scrolled up to pause it, but she hesitated as she watched. The camera changed angle and there was a boy lying on the ground. "Vawn did a beautiful job making that touchdown, but in the process Crane got a hard hitting from Defense, will he be ok?" all the sounds from the stadium mumbled the commentators out, but the video switch to a huddle of players surrounding him. A playback covered the scene, a close-up of Crane, talking to the quarter-back before placing his helmet on to begin the play. Phoebe quickly paused it and moved the stream button a few seconds back, before the boy's face was conceal by the helmet. She frowned as her eyes stared at his facial features. Fumbling for the picture she held the cartoon up next to the screen, comparing the drawing to the boy's face. _It was him_.

Everything was tying together, the Midland team, Steven wanting them to come down for an interview and the picture. Phoebe was supposed to save him. Her dark eyes stared at the paused video, memorizing his face. She was supposed to save Cyrus Crane. "Paige! Piper!" Phoebe beckoned. Her sisters came in promptly, not even inquiring because they saw it on the screen.

"This is the boy you're supposed to save." Piper squinted looking at the computer screen. "Why do I feel like I've seen him before, somewhere else?" she asked glancing back at the cartoon. Paige tilted her head to observe the frozen video of the boy.

"Yea, I know what you mean." Paige commented. "He does look familiar." Phoebe didn't pick up on it earlier, but the more she looked at him, she could tell where her sisters were coming from.

"You know I can't scrye for him?" she announced, putting her chin in her hand. "The stone blew to smithers when I tried." They all frowned with confusion.

"Well, who is this boy and why is it so hard to find him, he's an innocent right? We only get signs when we have to save an innocent, that's the deal." Piper argued. "Phoebe's premonitions are for innocents."

"That's the point though, this wasn't a premonition.. Maybe it's a trap sent by a demon." Phoebe concluded.

"Or it could be an innocent." Paige corrected.

"It can't possibly be a demon, he's a high school student who plays football, what would be the catch?" Piper said, placing her hands on her hips. It was her mother sense taking over, of course Piper would have sympathy for children, she was going to be a mother.

"You guys are right though, where have I seen him before?" Phoebe asked biting her lower lip.

* * *

Robert Neville sat at his desk in the office square of the hospital. He had every option to own an office on the fourth floor, but he felt comfortable where he was. His dark eyes observed the screen as he scrolled through a patient list. The trip in Africa was long, but he was finally back to life in L.A. taking care of his patients here. The lists paused as Piper Halliwell's name appeared on the roster. His mouth pulled into a small smile as he thought about the phone conversation he had with Phoebe a couple nights ago. He clicked the next roster, current deaths of his current patients when he went away. A grave expression passed over his face as his sad eyes viewed the list.

Grabbing a pen he went over his round roster, crossing off names with ink. He let out a long sigh as he place his hand over his forehead. Death was a part of life, but a part Robert had difficulty accepting. The silent scene at the office burst when his cell phone rang loudly. Just like his roster the rooms were empty, lifeless, and neglected by living inhabitants. His eyes looked at the screen as it flashed Phoebe's name. He managed to smile again as he accepted the call and held it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked

"_Hi Robert, it's me again. I'm sorry to bother you."_

"No No, it's not a problem, what do you need?" he asked still smiling, he'd never mind when she called.

"_I know this is an odd request, but I need a favor."_

He was now concerned. "Yes? What is it?" his brows lifted curiously.

"_I need you to look up a medical record."_

"Phoebe, our patients have a privacy policy, I can't release any medical history to you." Robert claimed, pulling up the tab to search.

"_I know, I know. I'm looking for some one though and I wouldn't be able to do it through the police, I just want to know where they are."_

"Why?" he asked, sensing something odd behind her request. "What's this about Phoebe?"

"_This is incredibly hard to explain without sounding creepy. Remember what you said?" _

"I've said a lot of things." Robert pretended he didn't know exactly what she was talking about.

"_Accepting the Secrets. Someone needs my help, I know they do and I need to find them in order to help them." _

"The name?" Robert asked accepting her answer. He understood what it was like, just wanting to help someone he knew was in need of help. As for accepting secrets, that was something he had come up with based on experience. Dr. Robert Neville was the greatest surgeon in the West Coast, but he was allowed to have many secrets.

"_Cyrus Crane."_

He typed in the name and pressed ENTER on the board, letting the engine search through the medical records. The name popped up immediately, it was unique. "Cyrus Crane, he has a birthday coming up." Robert chuckled. "Midland Oregon, 507 Stroh Street." he announced, the other details he kept to himself. He browsed medical history, a lot of injuries from sports, the doctor listed him for sports injuries almost every visit. There were several head concussions and chronic nosebleeds without much note on the cause. Dr. Bristen prescribed cat scans for the boy, but the Cranes didn't do anything further. Side notes suggested Cyrus Crane may be suffering from brain cancer, but further diagnosis needed to confirm it.

"Phoebe, are you looking for him because he's sick?" Robert asked into the phone.

"…_..Yes, why?"_

"Well what can you do for him? How do you know he's sick?" Robert was now bombarding her with questions.

"_He needs help, Robert."_

He reasoned with himself, Phoebe can't help the boy, he was on possible diagnosis for brain cancer. Maybe she asked him because it was a hint that he needed a doctor, but Robert couldn't be much help in that department. "I'm a surgeon Phoebe, can't be much help here." he explained eyeing the footnotes on the screen. "It's a long drive to go see him or to have him come in for help."

"_Wait…Robert, how sick is he?" _it was a completely different pitch now. Cyrus was going to be killed, but now he was very sick?

"I can't disclose the details Phoebe, you'll have to find out yourself." he commented closing the window with Cyrus' file.

"_Thank you Robert." _she hung up the phone. Whomever this kid was Phoebe needed to help. He picked up his line. "Hello, Marcy, could you put me through to Lawrence Bristen?"

"Hello Dr. Bristen, I'm calling about a patient of yours, Cyrus Crane?"

* * *

Phoebe convinced Steven to take her along to the interview of the Midland Team. Steven was kind enough to get enough funding for a lovely lunch and a hotel room, so they didn't have to drive all the way back immediately. Her excuse was that Darren loved football and he urged her to get the details on such an exciting story. Darren was the last thing on her mind now, even though he was back from his trip. All she could think about was Dr. Robert Neville and that ghastly picture folded up in her purse. Steven had no idea that Cyrus was the poor boy in that picture, Jeremiah didn't either.

"It's amazing some of the things they did." Steven gushed on, setting his pad on the table, he looked like a true reporter, eager to get the story. Phoebe tagged along to get to Cyrus. The server brought over the coach and six other boys, they were dressed nicely and their faces roughed off with years of play. The coach smiled wide and took Steven's hand, shaking it harshly as the boys seated themselves at the round table. Phoebe smiled delightfully, but her eyes rested on the whole purpose of this trip as Cyrus Crane sat down. "This is Phoebe Halliwell, she's from the paper as well, she's here to help take notes." Steven said. The coach shook her hand excitedly as well.

"My boys and I would love to answer whatever questions you have." he spoke for all of them fondly. Steven and the boys got started right away, talking over the meal, all of them scrounging down all the food they could get their hands on. Phoebe spoke occasionally, but kept her eyes on Cyrus mostly. The way he smiled, spoke and nodded seemed so familiar, like she had seen it before. Every time he made eye contact with her the illustration flashed through her head. This boy was going to die at some point, morbidly too. It was almost difficult sitting there and watching him eat, all Phoebe could see were his frightened eyes and blood curling around his temples.

"Excuse me, Does your competitions bring around a lot of enemies?" she interrupted. All the boys looked at here, even Steven gazed as she asked such an absurd question.

"Every game brings on competition." Cyrus broke the awkward silence. "There's always going to be some one to play and beat." he explained. Phoebe nodded, but she was not content with the answer.

"Does competition every get violent?" she inquired. Everyone at the table shifted.

"Ah no, it's just football!" The coach loudly said with a chuckle. Phoebe submitted her press for answers. The faces of the boys suggested otherwise and she didn't like the vibe she got from the group.

"Please pass the rolls." She asked as Cyrus moved to retrieve the basket. He handed it over to her and her fingers touched his as she gripped the basket. Her mind blacked out and her memories flew.

* * *

_She opened her eyes and she was in a completely different place. Phoebe was confused as she stared at her hands, they were wider, more masculine. She frowned from confusion, this didn't seem like a premonition, it was like it was real or something. As she rubbed her fingers together, she could feel her nerves tingle from contact, all of her sense worked, perhaps keener than usual. A light breeze gently kissed her cheeks as she looked around. She was outside, but everything was dead. The trees chipped off into charcoal and the ground was covered in soot. Ash gently drizzled from the sky and coated her figure. _

"_I never want you to forget." A voice called out. A young girl pulled Phoebe's hands, turning her towards the tree, It was so dark, Phoebe could barely see her face. _

"_F-forget what?" Phoebe asked, she paused in shock as a deeper voice blurted from her throat. She freed one hand to rub her neck, feeling it was thicker than usual. _

"_Wesley will make sure, you never forget." the girl announced as a boy stepped into the picture. Phoebe frowned as she girl let go of her….his? Hands. The young girl placed her hands on the trunk of the tree, bright light emitted from her finger tips through the rings of the tree, slowly making it grow and bud to life. Phoebe's mouth opened as she looked up at the dead branches and pink flowers bloomed, shedding pedals everywhere. It was so beautiful compared to rest of the rot in the world. Phoebe looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Her eyes traced the rubble, changing to shapes of cars and busses, it was a ruined city. She ran over to car mirror, it was cracked and dusted over with ash, so she swiped away the dirt, trying to get the image of herself to show through. _

_Her eyes stared at Cyrus', he was looking back at her, she was looking at herself? She was Cyrus in this premonition, she had never taken the role of a person before, nor has she ever moved freely around. Cyrus' face was a lot older, he even had a thick beard to prove he had been in his mid twenties. He wasn't so scrawny anymore either, he had grown significantly from the boy sitting at the table. She lifted her hand to smooth over her broad chin. Where was she? When was she?_

_She stood up and Wesley reached his hand for her face, cupping his palm over her eyes. "You'll never forget." the girl's voice stated._

_

* * *

_

Phoebe opened her eyes and took the basket of rolls from Cyrus. Her eyes briefly darted to her hands, they were hers once again. "Thank you." she said pleasantly, her voice was back to normal. Cyrus seemed unphased like nothing had ever happened. Phoebe now couldn't get the image of the man staring back at her in the car mirror. She focused on the details of her memory, at that point she _knew_ she had seen him before, he was so familiar as a man. She didn't know anyone of the last name Crane though.

"Hey, Cyrus, right? Do you have any family around these parts? I think I've seen you, or someone a lot like you before around here." she inquired to the side, letting the rest of the team talk to Steven.

The boy smiled briefly. "Miss. Halliwell, I'm sorry, No. I don't really know if I have family here, I have foster parents." he said, he was very accepting of the fact he was adopted. There was the huge secret, Cyrus was adopted. Phoebe nodded.

"Oh sorry." she apologized, but that information was precisely what she needed, there may have been a reason that she couldn't scrye for him. He may have had a magical background, parents that were witches or demons. There were too many questions and Cyrus was untouchable.

"They are here until tomorrow night." Phoebe told Piper. "We need to find a way to get to him, ask him questions."

"We could just orb in." Paige suggested.

"Yea, three strange women orbing into a high school boy's hotel room." Phoebe mocked the very idea.

"Orb him here, I'm sure he'll understand if we tell him his life is in danger." Paige interjected. Piper frowned slightly.

"There's not going to be an easy way to do this, either way we're going to have to seem like total creeps and scare the kid a little. As long as we save him. Darrel can get us out of any legal stick." Piper announced.

Phoebe needed to get to the bottom of everything, even the unique premonition she had when she came in contact with Cyrus. She needed to figure out why she felt like she had seen him before too. What Robert said was also on her mind, apparently Cyrus was very sick. Leo said it was too late in the picture, did that mean Cyrus **had **to die?


End file.
